Totaled
by StarlitEyes1
Summary: You never forget the face of the man that tries to take your life. You never forget the first time he hit you. You never forget the first time he whispers into your ear, "Do you want me to rape you?" However, in the month of June 2009, I had no idea in a short time, this would be my reality.
1. Before The Lights Went Out

I still remember his brown eyes; his pupils carried evil inside them. Of course, evil can always take the most beautiful forms when it wants to.

In my early twenties, I was in the small amount of summer that comes between ending a bachelor's and beginning a master's degree. It was a summer that I could almost taste adult freedom, but I was still too young to realize the ways of the world.

I was in desperate search of a fresh start. Recently shed of undergraduate drama, endless drinking binges, all night parties, and agonizing over subjects that bored me to tears. I was ready to get serious. A new international company, focused on video games, had recruited me. I did not necessarily care about video games, but I needed something to fill my time and prevent my quarter life crisis.

The company, Action Habit, was introducing a new "online gaming" feature that had been beta tested in major regions, including Silicon Valley and New York City. The testing had been hugely successful and gained a cult following via Twitter and Facebook. Tiny nerd kingdoms from around the globe were planning midnight camp-outs to buy the necessary gaming equipment. From there it would be a 48-hour play-fest that excluded any outside world, unless the body deemed necessary. The game was called Second Nature. Players worked through magical worlds, only to come to a gamble at each end of the level. The player could take the gamble, and chance moving on or being set back. If the gamble was not taken, the player could only move on, at the sacrifice of his own health.

After a two-week orientation, I met my boss Bobbi. She was a gray haired up tight manager that had previous success in a mobile company. It was rumored that the stress from the project had caused Bobbi to smoke constantly and pop Xanax as if was candy. My fancy psychology degrees caused me to ignore this, after all, I knew people. Or so I thought. Bobbi expressed she had no time for me, or to train me, Andy would be in charge of any and all of my on boarding.

Andy, our team lead, showed me around. Andy was a gorgeous woman, a little older than me. She had striking red hair, and big blue eyes. She was welcoming, and out going. Recently divorced, Andy hid her feelings in her work. Her self set schedule, 7am-11pm, she had justified that the overtime was available, and she would take advantage of it. By this time I knew the other girl from orientation. This was Liz, who insisted on being called Momma. She was a much older woman, who had lost the femininity of her voice to cigarettes years ago. Momma claimed to be a medium, and decided everything based on her psychic predictions and what the stars said.

I was then introduced to the developers in the back of the building. Hartly was a large black man; he had a strong low voice. His pronunciation was lost in his dialect, swallowing every other word. Coming from Sony, Hartly was the project manager that convinced Action Habit to go viral. He signed a six-month contract, and hired two other contracted developers. Daniel was a squared shouldered Southern man that seemed lost in his own thoughts of "back in the South." This was quite a creepy looking man, who often led his introductions with his pelvis, rather than his hands. Despite the social graces, he was brilliant in online gaming. Finally, there was him. Andre DeLuce. He had beautiful dark eyes, jet-black hair, and dark skin. He was tall with a sweet smile. When Andy introduced us, I was sure to keep his name in mind.

It was not love at first sight by any means; our meeting was silent flirting. While you quickly gaze into each other's eyes and shake hands, your souls dance together silently. It was merely an instant, but you feel it in the depths of you heart, the dizziness in your heard as it spins in a twirl of delight.

Still, this is not love. Not even close. I would learn what love meant in the coming months. And just how awful love could be.


	2. A Good Show

Chapter II

You never forget the face of the man that tried to take your life. You never forget the first time he hit you. You never forget the first time he whispers into your ear, "Do you want me to rape you?"

However, in the month of June, I had no idea in a short time, this would be my reality.

Weeks of work went by with nothing. Andre and I had occasional glances. I thought nothing of it, how could a man so handsome ever go for a girl like me? I was nothing to look at. I had chestnut hair, full of split ends, blue eyes and 5'3. College had been decent, I wasn't over weight, but working out was a pain. I ran, but running was more of a therapy than exercise. I had done well in college, enough to eventually peruse a master's degree. I had a humble side; unintentionally developed by the example of my sorority sisters. These women thought themselves the Queens of the University, Universe. Boasting and self-promotion was ugly, and classless, thinking too much of your self was quite unattractive.

_Even though nobody will warn you, in your early twenty's, you are impressed by everything, and everyone; not in the way that all is glorious. This type of impression literally means everything impresses on you._

I worked long hours, but I did not care. The company had a video game release to prepare for, so we all buckled down and worked. I enjoyed my job; this was my small world. A drive flowed through me everyday, and I allowed myself to be consumed. By the end of June, Liz and I had adopted Andy's schedule of 7am-11pm. The money was glorious. We would rotate grabbing breakfast in the morning, and spend the next hours entering customer information, gaming store locations, projected sales data, and filtering customer phone calls to the surrounding branches. I still managed to fit in two days off through out the week. They were usually jammed packed with family functions and catching up with friends. I was chaotically busy, but still optimistic.

He saw this. That explains his actions in what would be our next encounter. I can still hear his voice so clear. I was in the back; grabbing my now much needed coffee. Andrea walked in too. Without hesitation he looked at me and said, "I want you to know, if you ever need anything, let me know. I will make sure my guys get it for you."

"Thanks," I replied gratefully.

"I mean it," he insisted, "Anything at all. Coffee, water, you name it." He stepped closer, beyond the natural boundaries of professional personal space. I could smell the musk cologne, making a mental note to find this scent. The beads of sweat of his brow were perfectly clear. His breath was sweet.

Suddenly, I felt faint. This was close, infecting, unreal. What was happening? My head went numb, and my heart started screaming, "Take me, consume me, I'm yours." I fought between desperation of the inability to get close enough, and staying professional. I looked at his piercing brown eyes, as they silently commanded I was his. "Kiss me," I thought, "Touch me, just a slip of the finger. Goddamn-it! Do something!" I could feel my heart pounding, my breath getting shallow.

He simply walked away. I stood frozen, numb, recovering from what had just happened.

Two more weeks went by, and Andre's office was moved. Coincidentally, his new office was right in the line of sight of my desk. We of course took this opportunity to exchange glances through out the day. There would be times I would look up, and he would have a dreamy look, as if he had been observing me for hours. Emotion of course got the best of me, and I took this as flattering.

One day, Liz stopped me in the office; I suddenly realized that she reminded me of a classic gypsy. She spoke with her bony fingers that found it's way violently poking my chest.

"Why don't you two just go out already? You stare at each other all damn day!"

I turned roughly eighty shades of red. He did not look at me. Why would he? What is there to look at? She was clearly crazy.

As fate would have it though, that Friday, I strolled into his office with a question on some data. Harly was in his office. The two had been gabbing about the stressful hours, and the development of the latest fantasy creature.

Harly turned to me, "Rachel, do you like wine? Andre and I were thinking about grabbing some drinks after the day. It's been one hell of a day. None of this shit is going right."

"I love wine," I responded.

"Good," Andre chimed in, "I have a wine buddy now. Let's go out after work." He winked. I froze.

The final details of the plan included getting a group together for drinks at a local bar, Andre excused himself while Harly and I finalized plans. At least that is what I thought upon returning to my desk. So, I was rather shocked when Andy returned to my desk glowing with delight.

"So, where's your date tonight?" Andy teased.

"Excuse me?" I questioned.

"Andre said he is taking you out tonight. Where are you going?"

My head felt foggy. A date? What? I didn't know I signed up for that. We were going with a group. I was fairly certain that with my previous reaction, a date with Andre would send me into a coma.

Granted, I wasn't mad. I had wasted a great amount of my data filled days hoping this beautiful creature of a man would ask me out. Well, I had hoped he would sweep me off my feet, whisk me away into the sunset, marry me and have his way with me. We would have beautiful children and a glorious house from the endless sums of money the company had been providing. A date worked too. I just thought the planning of our first date would be more consensual. But as I would learn, and get a hint of that night, consent was not really this guy's style.


End file.
